I was a Miike fan long before I was a Suda fan.
I feel like Grasshopper Manufacture understands me, y'know? In No More Heroes 3, they capture the essence of what formulated my taste in media. Right off the bat, before anything else happens, we have Travis reminiscing about a janky, ugly video game no one but him seems to remember; when he revisits it, hoping to finally see the incredible ending he was promised as a child, he discovers that it was all a lie. But you get to play the game too, and it's clear that a lot of effort was put into making it as accurate to the "good" old days as possible. The execution of this whole Deathman saga feels like an earnest love-letter to the kind of garbage I grew up thinking was gold, and that's exactly what NMH3 is to its very core: earnest. This is Suda51's most sincere work to date, a genuine attempt at making the kind of open-world game GHM was lampooning in the original No More Heroes, with their most polished and mechanically satisfying combat so far. When it isn't getting bogged down by frequent load screens and occasional dips into typical open-world checklist design, it's a true joy to play. The fact that they could get action this smooth out of Unreal Engine 4 on the Switch is a testament to the oft-overlooked skill of the development team.
NMH3's sense of humor is tonally very different from the previous games, simultaneously showing more restraint while also being even more over the top. What I mean is, everything about it feels natural despite being more audacious than ever. The script is some of Suda's best work, as what it lacks in the depth and thematic resonance of previous Kill The Past titles, it makes up for with strong character writing and dialogue. This is definitely one of the funniest, most charming games ever made, balancing just the right amounts of absurdism and self-indulgence to create some absolutely wonderful surreal comedy. The highlight for me was always seeing Travis and Bishop discuss the quality of Takashi Miike's filmography and directorial techniques, which felt like an exaggerated take on the way I love to ramble on about my favorite films and games with friends. Seeing these characters sing the praises of the most major works that got me into Japanese cinema - Gozu, Audition, and Ichi The Killer - makes me feel so warm and cozy inside. And while this aspect of the story is certainly among the most self-indulgent things ever penned for a video game, it doesn't feel forced or like Suda is trying to make a cheap comparison with his own work; it's just a guy writing earnestly about how much he loves his favorite director. We need more stuff like this.
The opening and closing hours of No More Heroes 3 are some of the wildest in any video game, delivering a sensory overload that can only be described as "fucking raw." The soundtrack might be the best in the series, if not Grasshopper's entire oeuvre. The whole production bleeds style to the point where it may actually become substance. There is so, so much I adore about this game that I'm already starting to forget how the swirl of constant load screens and general open-world nonsense threatened to ruin my good time at every turn. These issues created a particularly frustrating amount of tedium, necessitating shorter play sessions than I'd hoped, and for once I don't think it was intentional. That said, everything else about NMH3 resonated with me on an almost instinctual level, and I hope you'll be able to find something just as special in it as I did.
I feel like Grasshopper Manufacture understands me, y'know? In No More Heroes 3, they capture the essence of what formulated my taste in media. Right off the bat, before anything else happens, we have Travis reminiscing about a janky, ugly video game no one but him seems to remember; when he revisits it, hoping to finally see the incredible ending he was promised as a child, he discovers that it was all a lie. But you get to play the game too, and it's clear that a lot of effort was put into making it as accurate to the "good" old days as possible. The execution of this whole Deathman saga feels like an earnest love-letter to the kind of garbage I grew up thinking was gold, and that's exactly what NMH3 is to its very core: earnest. This is Suda51's most sincere work to date, a genuine attempt at making the kind of open-world game GHM was lampooning in the original No More Heroes, with their most polished and mechanically satisfying combat so far. When it isn't getting bogged down by frequent load screens and occasional dips into typical open-world checklist design, it's a true joy to play. The fact that they could get action this smooth out of Unreal Engine 4 on the Switch is a testament to the oft-overlooked skill of the development team.
NMH3's sense of humor is tonally very different from the previous games, simultaneously showing more restraint while also being even more over the top. What I mean is, everything about it feels natural despite being more audacious than ever. The script is some of Suda's best work, as what it lacks in the depth and thematic resonance of previous Kill The Past titles, it makes up for with strong character writing and dialogue. This is definitely one of the funniest, most charming games ever made, balancing just the right amounts of absurdism and self-indulgence to create some absolutely wonderful surreal comedy. The highlight for me was always seeing Travis and Bishop discuss the quality of Takashi Miike's filmography and directorial techniques, which felt like an exaggerated take on the way I love to ramble on about my favorite films and games with friends. Seeing these characters sing the praises of the most major works that got me into Japanese cinema - Gozu, Audition, and Ichi The Killer - makes me feel so warm and cozy inside. And while this aspect of the story is certainly among the most self-indulgent things ever penned for a video game, it doesn't feel forced or like Suda is trying to make a cheap comparison with his own work; it's just a guy writing earnestly about how much he loves his favorite director. We need more stuff like this.
The opening and closing hours of No More Heroes 3 are some of the wildest in any video game, delivering a sensory overload that can only be described as "fucking raw." The soundtrack might be the best in the series, if not Grasshopper's entire oeuvre. The whole production bleeds style to the point where it may actually become substance. There is so, so much I adore about this game that I'm already starting to forget how the swirl of constant load screens and general open-world nonsense threatened to ruin my good time at every turn. These issues created a particularly frustrating amount of tedium, necessitating shorter play sessions than I'd hoped, and for once I don't think it was intentional. That said, everything else about NMH3 resonated with me on an almost instinctual level, and I hope you'll be able to find something just as special in it as I did.